Kataragama's Role in Sri Lankan History or History is Whose Story?

Ptolemy's map of Taprobane.

Writers of history come in two varieties: those who fashion history by making it, and
those who describe the process later. Here, as is so often the case, metaphor
clothes the spirit or higher sense, while the literal sense serves only to fix
the particulars. In this, we maintain, lies the key not only to the meaningful
interpretation of traditional epic histories, but also to the faithful
rendition of raw events into popular history. For historiography -- the telling
of history -- is also in a sense the source of history itself. Guiding principles operate at all times.

It is well known to historians, common people, and physicists alike that one and the same event
may validly conform to radically different descriptions or explanations, e.g. a
'particle' may also be viewed as a wave. Descriptions, conforming to different
perspectives, may serve different purposes more or less effectively. Seen as
microcosmic examples of macrocosmic principles, even 'ordinary' incidents acquire
epic grandeur, and find a place in the heart and mind of ordinary people.
Exhibiting levels of meaning that go deeper than the literal or 'factual'
alone, truly epic accounts not only relate traditional histories, but touch the
hearts of millions as well, thereby becoming a part of the historical process
itself: the dialects of history.

Clothed in language, a product of the human mind, history reflects the invisible patterns
of thought and language, for which modern linguists have invented the concept
of a 'deep structure' underlying the surface patterns. It is prudent for
historians and others to avail themselves of advances made in related fields,
however obscure the connection might at first appear. Bereft of higher – or – deeper
– principles, history remains a pseudo- science, battleground for contending
ideologies, and a fertile source of hatred and violence. Resting upon universal
principles, unaffected by passing fashions in thought, epic accounts weave
people and events together in a unity transcending particular interests.

Insular Śrī Lanka, long home to a veritable rainbow of cultures, is a unique microcosm
representing all of Asia in its crosscurrents of east and west, tradition and
modernity. As such, Sri Lanka may serve historians admirably as a looking glass
of Asian history, ancient and modern.

However for the historian whose perspective, assumptions, and methods are essentially foreign
to a traditional culture, the long history of Sri Lanka remains a sealed book.
Modern history let us remember, is a modern invention, whereas human
intelligence is not. Every culture gives a full account of itself, one that is
true to the conditions and ideals of that culture, whether it conforms to
European notions of history, or not. All too often, these moving accounts,
records of great antiquity in their own rights, are dismissed by
western-trained scholars as the fantasies of simple-minded people and as gross
distortions of 'the facts'.

There is certain arrogance in a mentality that allocates truth to itself and superstition only
to others: more, perhaps, than European thinkers would generally care to admit.
It has had a souring effect upon East-West relations from the tine of the very
first European imperialists right up to the present day. This deep-seated bias
may be seen to have an ill defined but pervasive influence upon every aspect of
relations between East and West, from the purely material sphere of trade,
finance, and military affairs to the common intellectual sphere fashions are supposed
to count for nothing. Even the writing of history has not escaped distortion.

This subtle - and often not so subtle - antagonism on the part of what may be called the modern
mentality towards the normal or traditional mentality goes back a long way, and
has assumed many guises over the centuries. But it is everywhere marked by an
instinctive faith in material solutions to problems of whatever sort, and a
corresponding implicit denial of the principles, which are the support
of the phenomena they so cherish and worship. The net result is a striking
predisposition to quantify human affairs, as witnessed by the preponderant role
that money and brute force play in the modern scheme of things.

When a culture's own account of itself, oral or written, is not accorded its full and rightful
place in that people's history as told to them by historians, then one may
justifiably surmise that this 'history' contains motives foreign to the culture
it presumes to describe. What is more, it may be deduced that only the literal
or inferior elements of the indigenous account have been accessible to the
historian, all the rest escaping his attention. A mentality dedicated to
quantitative solutions cannot even aspire to the faithful interpretation of the
factual – symbolic accounts of cultures still operating according to
qualitative principles. Since only in the orient does the traditional view
still hold out against the uninvited incursions of the modern mentality, it is
legitimate to speak of distinction of east from west, as of tradition from
modernity. There is no greater challenge in history then this titanic struggle of mentalities.

The Story of Kataragama in the History of Sri Lanka

If Sri Lanka may be seen as a paradigm of the rest of Asia, then
the legend of Kataragama may be said to fairly encapsulate the story of all Sri Lanka,
even up to the present day. Such id the esteem that Sri Lankans of all
backgrounds hold for Kataragama – the symbolic capital of Ruhunu as well as the
spirit or protector of the place—that even the noted historian P.E. Pieris was
moved to write of Kataragama that:

…Here from remote ages was worshipped the six headed twelve-armed Kanda Kumaraya,
otherwise Mahasena Divyaraja, Adhipati (Lord) of the Ruhunu Rata, the
hero-god…Kataragama, say the Hindus, is his favorite adobe; in this age – the
Kali Yuga – his authority extends over the entire world.1

What Kataragama represents to millions of Sri Lankans is already well documented by
social scientists and others. It is sufficient to remark that, from prehistoric
times, Kataragama has commanded the utmost respect – even approaching fear –
across lines of race and religion, such that even Christians, not to mention
Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus, routinely visit remote Kataragama in large
numbers. Their rites of vow fulfillment by the deity, which one may see
performed en masse at festival times, stand as mute testimony to Kataragama's silent influence.2

This power that Kataragama exerts over the imagination of so many has been
adequately explained, but patterns do exits at a number of levels, suggesting
that Kataragama represents more than just a fabulously successful jungle
shrine. For the legend of Kataragama is primarily and throughout a symbolic
story which adapts itself to a remarkably broad range of interpretations.
Not only may Kataragama be described faithfully in mythological or purely
symbolic terms, provided that one adheres to the body of symbolic correspondences.

Reduced to its basics framework, the Kataragama story centers around the repeated
descent and exploits on earth of the solar hero: his battles with the forces of
darkness; eventual triumph in the name of truth; his love for the terrestrial princes
– the human soul – and dalliance with her on earth; and final consumption in a
sacrificial act that fulfills his vow to return once again, as inprincipio.
Upon this symbolic framework may be woven any number of thematic variations, each
depending upon the particular perspective taken. Thus, for example, the Kataragama
hero is variously described as the first Ancestor of humanity, the
servant – or even the son – of god, bodhisattva or Buddha to be, an
eternal youth, or general of the divine forces in their battle against the
satanic forces of darkness.

One of Kataragama's unique features is that multifaceted story is not only related
at the time of annual Esala festival, but performed as well on a
majestic scale. This magnificent performance, as we have endeavored to
establish in an earlier paper (unpublished), represents an initiatic tradition
of mystery plays, one which has gracefully accommodated social change
since well before the Common Era. Amidst the ravages of time, Kataragama
preserve its timeless message.

Kataragama and the Framing of History

The fact that the cote myth of Kataragama may be framed in a variety of ways is of particular
relevance to historian, for this is precisely the dilemma of historians of
every age: how to interpret the histories that have already been told, and how to
share with others the understanding acquired. And the issue of exceptional
relevance when one considers it in the context of the aforesaid dichotomy
visible in Sri Lanka and all over Asia as a European-inspired struggle to
overcome tradition and modernize national economies, all in accordance
with modes of thought originating in Europe.

Clearly, what is suggested is not a sort of historical relativism elevated into a general
theory, for relativism would imply a reciprocity, which is singularly absent in
the present context. Rather, it has from the beginning been an unequal struggle
in which, broadly speaking, the west has brought to bear against the east the
full force of what has been called its "proselytizing fury", all for its own
purely pragmatic purposes. Nowhere has the Western or modern mentality had to
undergo the degree of change that it has sought to impose upon traditional
cultures everywhere. The time for redress is opportune.

How the accounts of modern and traditional
historians may diverge is the subject for which the following historical
examples have been drawn. All center on the myth of Kataragama. Each in its own
fashion demonstrates the contention of this article. Regarded in their totality,
they tell a story on a scale befitting the many-faced myth of Kataragama.

Myth as History and History as Myth

Historically, Kataragama has always maintained a low profile. While this may strike some as a
rationalization fir the near-absence of Kataragama from history books, it
should also be borne in mind that, in principle, the hero or god-king of
Kataragama is one who achieves his aim through subterfuge, disguise, and stratagem.
To wit, he is a god of wits, humanly accessible to those who apprehend his modus
operandi. This should tell something about where he is to be found, and how.

Historical suggestions of the Kataragama myth appear in the Sri Lankan history as early as
the late centuries of the pre-common Era, leaving little room for doubt about
Kataragama's antiquity which, according to oral tradition still preserved in
Kataragama, predates the appearance of either Sinhalese or Tamil culture in Sri
Lanka. The most notable historical example from this period is the epic
struggle between two popular Sri Lankan kings, Elara and Dutugemunu.

Modern historians, and Sinhalese chauvinists in their turn, have sought to emphasize the ethnic dimension
of this episode, portraying it as the patriotic struggle of Sinhalese nationalists
to expel or exterminate the Tamil inhabitants. In doing so, they have performed
a great disservice to Sri Lanka; but that is not the point here.

Criticism has been leveled against these same people for conveniently overlooking the fact
that king Elara, whether he was a Tamil speaker or not, was also one of Sri
Lanka's most respected monarch's, serving a reign of forty-four years that was
noted for its impartial justice and patronage of various faiths, including
Buddhism. In fact, it was Elara's unswerving dedication to justice that settled
his end, for he found himself duty-bound to order the execution of his own son
and their heir-apparent, who had recklessly caused the death of a cow, a
capital offense in those days. Unable to abdicate without a successor, Elara's utmost
concern at his age would have been not to maintain himself on the throne at any
price, but to heal this disruption in the natural order by allowing for a just
and natural succession, at the cost of his own life.

Considered in this context, the events that followed acquire added significance. In Ruhunu,
young prince Duttugemunu vowed to Kataragama to fight for the justice and the cultural
integrity of Sri Lanka. Symbolically, this act set in motion the epic events
that were to follow. Duttugemunu was then able to raise a large army and march
successfully, battle lance in hand, against the petty chieftains who stood
between him and Elara. by the time Young prince and the old king faced each
other on the field of battle, the overtones of their symbolic encounter would
have been fully evident to both of them, if not to others as well. Duttugemunu had
to come out victorious, just as Elara would have welcomed this opportunity to
end his life in battle. Never was the outcome in doubt, as far as they were concerned.

In a sense, Elara's sacrifice was Dutugemunu's triumph, and together they restored the
ancient symbolic order in a spectacle that was as mysterious as it was
dramatic. Undoubtedly, the whole affair left a deep impressions upon
Duttugemunu, not to mention Sri Lankan consciousness ever since. Out of gratitude
to Kataragama, and in fulfillment of his vow, Duttugemunu decreed that hence
forth and in perpetuity a vast grant of populated and rich land in Ruhunu
would be given over to the sovereign authority of god Kataragama himself.
Further, to insure that the traditional rites would also be carried forth on
behalf of all posterity, he stipulated that they be partitioned into 505 ritual
assignments, or roles, to be annually performed in accordance with the
tradition of 'royal service', or rajakariya, and passed on from one
generation to another in property.

Time, encroaching jungles, and successive governments have cheated Dutugemunu's intentions, but
through an ingenuous redundancy of tasks, the overall performance still survives
today, even if scaled down by centuries of attrition, misunderstanding, and
official neglect. In a sense, the king-less kingdom of Kataragama is yet extant,
alive in the hearts of his subjects. What can be more low-profiled than that?

To understanding the interplay of abstract concepts and the unfolding of history, it is
essential that grasp the role of what is called Mahasammata, or 'common
agreement'. Because it was common to all, it was the called maha, 'great'.
The agreement, or a sammata, was not a public scheme or policy, but the
articulation of the common interest: it was the 'common sense' of those days.
Truly effective policy, or what our contemporaries call 'power', was understood
to devolve from higher principles, or Dharma. The analogue in the human
domain was the king – or sometimes queen – whose authority to reign depended
upon adherence to dharma. Principles reigned, rather than individual interests,
so unanimity of opinion was natural.

Ancient statue of King Mahasena, Kataragama Kiri Vehera

One example of this mahasammata in Sri Lankan history is as follows. The island largely consists
of what has been called a hydraulic culture, where seasonal rains must be supplemented
by irrigation to assure adequate crops of rice. Large-scale irrigation requires
the construction and maintenance of wewas, bunds for the purpose of
gathering the seasonal rains for distribution as needed. These enormous
irrigation works, many if which are still functional today, were built and
maintained through the institution of rajakariya, whereby each household
agreed implicitly to give manual service to the king in return for an allotment of life-giving water.

The reign most famous for the creation of these great bunds was that of King Mahasena, whom historians
assign to the third century C.E. It is noteworthy that this king should bear
the name Mahasena (literally, 'who has a great army'), as it is not for
military exploits that he is remembered. Rather, Mahasena was a king whose inspired
leadership served not only to insure the nourishment of his people, but to help
forge their sense of common identity as well. In other words, the 'great
army' he raised consisted of every man, woman and child in the kingdom, armed
with a common consensus. Whatever Mahasena's personal peculiarities, he
remained the living symbol of his people's Mahasammata. This is close
association of King Mahasena with the concepts of Rajakariya and Mahasammata
is crucial to a genuine understanding of the traditional perspective: Rajakariya
was Mahasammata in practice, the performance of which embodied timeless principles.

Ptolemy of Alexandria

The earlier reliable description from western sources of Sri Lanka, or Taprobane as it was then
called, comes down to us from Ptolemy of Alexandria, famous astronomer and
geographer of the second century C.E. Ptolemy is credited with such a
remarkable extent and accuracy of information about Taprobane that, in one
historian's words, "it has given rise to surmises as to the sources whence it
could possibly been derived."3 Ptolemy's description of Taprobane "proves that
the island had been thoroughly circumnavigated and examined by the mariners who
were his informants."4

Detail of Ptolemy's map of Taprobane: Bachi Oppidum the 'Town of Bacchus' near present-day Kataragama

That Kataragama is nowhere directly mentioned by Ptolemy is no indication that he was unaware
of its existence and character. As an initiate into the traditional mysteries of
the Mediterranean world, Ptolemy would have not only clearly recognized the
signs of a mystery performance elsewhere, but out if respect for its sanctity
would have refrained from making any direct mention of the place, cf. 'Sacred is
secret'. However, in keeping with the universal character of initiatic
knowledge, he would have left ample hints or clues which would pass unnoticed
and uncomprehended except by observers similarly acquainted with initiatic lore.

If Ptolemy was riddling, then the traces of his riddle might be expected to survive in his
records for posterity. Indeed, many have been puzzled by at least one feature
of Ptolemy's map of Taprobane, which unaccountably labels the then heavily
populated Ruhunu area adjacent to Kataragama as "the elephants' feeding
grounds". However, when one considers this anomaly in the context of
Kataragama's close association in myth with elephants – for Kataragama is also Gajaragama,
'the home of the elephants'- Ptolemy's apparent error begins to make sense.
Here 'elephant may also be understood to bear reference to the elephant's reputation
as the wisest and gentlest member of the jungle family. 'Feeding grounds' imply
sanctuary and available nourishment- but for whom? Ruhunu may have also
protected its four –footed elephants, but un metaphorical terms reference is
understand to the itinerant 'elephants' of society, the homeless custodian of tradition.

Even more revealing is Ptolemy's curious naming of the ocean waters just off Kataragama
as the 'Sea of Dionysus'. Astute observers, like Bharati (1973), have already
surmised that the god of Kataragama is a Dionysian deity.5 Ptolemy, who was
certainly well-informed about the worship of Dionysus, would not have employed
hid name randomly, as certain of our contemporaries are inclined to believe. Geography,
for Ptolemy as well as for traditional people s everywhere, also entailed an element of higher or initiatic knowledge.

Most pointed out all of Ptolemy's oblique references to Kataragama, however, is his naming of a
large rocky proturbence into the sea of Dionysus as the dionysii
promontorium, or promontory of Dionysus. Here again, what the promontorium
'stands for' (pro-) is the mount of Dionysus, i.e., Kataragama peak, which in
all likelihood was the center of Kataragama's worshiping those days. Thus, Ptolemy's
intended reference was to something higher than the physical phenomenon he named.

This may appear to some as a digression from the discussion of historiography and the sources
of history. But it does serve to highlight the difference between histories
traditional and modern. For the former, possibilities of meaning of a higher or
metaphorical order are not merely entertained as another order of reality, but
as the principle or determining factor in the story of humanity, whether
considered in sensible or symbolic terms. For the later, histories of a modern
or western perspective, the import or message is felt to abide in the literal
sense alone, disqualifying every possible interpretation of an order higher
than that which can be gleaned from a systematization of facts into 'theories of history'.

European colonial powers were incessantly at war with each other and every culture they contacted.

Lankan villagers fought bravely with simple weapons against the superior firepower of the British during the Great Rebellion of 1817-18

The Modern conquest of Kataragama

With the landing of European forces in Ceylon in the sixteenth century, this contrast of
east and west began to play itself out in dramatic fashion. As the most
unabashed of western conquers, the Portuguese had come to the east for the
professed intention of saving the souls of the heathen and relieving them of
excess wealth. These early European imperialists kept hearing stories of
Kataragama's fabulous wealth, and by the mid-seventeenth century could contain
their greed and avarice no longer. What has prevented them in part for so long
from satisfying their curiosity were disturbing reports that Kataragama
maintained a standing army of 500 men for its defense.6

So, in early 1642, one hundred and fifty intrepid Portuguese commandos, under the command of
Gasper Figueroa de Cerpe, marched on Kataragama, accompanied by two thousand
native marines, or Lascarins. Captain Juan Riberio was among them, and his
account of what followed merits our full attention:

When we came near
the spot where they said the pagoda stood, we took a native resident close to
that spot and our commander inquired from him if he knew where the pagoda was. He
replied that he did, and that it was close by; he acted as our guide and led us
through a hill covered with forest which was the only one in the district, and
this we wandered round re-crossed many times. it was certain that the pagoda
was at the top of it but I do not know what magic it possessed for out of the
five guides whom we took, the first three were put to death because we thought
that they were deceiving us, for they acted as if they were mad and spoke all
kinds of nonsense, each one in his turn without the one knowing of the others. The
last two deceived us and did exactly the same, and we were forced to turn back
without even seeing the pagoda which is called catergao.7

Captain Roberio may be excused for not realizing it, but his oversized looking party
had fallen victim to the very kind of puzzling embarrassment that is
Kataragama's hallmark. The fabulous wealth they coveted was fabulous indeed,
but still it proved to be enough to fire their ingrained cupidity. For the god
of Kataragama, a center of riddles and mysteries, is described in myth and
legend as being not only the divine strategician Skanda, but also the eternal
divine child, kumara, who is forever engaged in mysterious pranks and games
like hide and seek. The spirit of Kataragama was well known and alive in the
heart of every inhabitant of that region. It was this 'standing army',
represented as the 505 symbolic rajakariya tasks, that the literal-minded
European imperialists, and modern historians in their wake, so totally failed
to find. As to what the 'nonsense' was that all five native 'guides' provided
to the invaders, we shall probably never know what it was. But, somehow or
other, the Europeans and their allies had been tricked by the myth that is Kataragama.

The Great Rebellion of 1817orThe Misadventures of Rump King Vilbave

By the early nineteenth century, the Kandyan Kingdom had been under stage by hostile
European powers for three hundred years, and was ready to topple. In 1814, with
a view to obtaining help in replacing an unpopular monarch, the Kandyan
nobility invited the intervention of British forces. The predictable result,
that the English refused to leave and undertook to subvert – with the very best
of intentions – every major Kandyan tradition, was soon to prove unbearable to
nobility and common people alike.

Most irksome of all, from the indigenous standpoint, was the eradication of the institution of
kingship along with the king himself. As one contemporary Sri Lankans than a
mere wielder of state power, but "as amply illustrated by the elaborate ritual
and ceremonial that surrounded his person, was the sacred symbol that was
believed to hold society together."8 Or in even more graphic terms, as John Davy
was to write in 1821. "They say that a king is so essential that without him
there would be no order nor harmony, only confusion and dissension that
would soon prove fatal to society".9

In other words, within a few short years the citizenry was cast into a mood of general
oppression, anxiety, and a creeping fear that Sri Lanka, Dhamma Deepa, had
entered the long slide onto conflict act and chaos. Caught in the grip of their
own convictions, the English were unable to see that they were setting the
stage for eventual counter-actions.

They did not have long to wait. The Kandyan population, long accustomed to freedom in the
matters that meant the most to it, lacked only the leadership to undertake a
war of independence. They did not have long to wait, either. A fresh lesson in
history – Kataragama-style – was about to unfold.

Apart from the fact that the rebellion ended in apparent failure – for the outcome was never military
in doubt – the plot that unfolded contained all the elements of a classic
Kataragama performance, whether one chooses to disregard the metaphorical
dimension, or not. To begin with, the Great Rebellion of 1817-18 was neither
planned nor expected by anyone living in Ceylon at the time, and took the Kandyan
nobility as well as the British by complete surprise, a typical feature
of the Kataragama legend.

Exactly what happened is difficult, if it is not impossible, to determine all its
subtleties. What is known is that one Vilbave, ex-bhikkhu and unreformed rogue
from the low country, suddenly appeared in Kataragama at the conclusion of the
great festival in July, 1817, and announced that he had been chosen by the god
of Kataragama to be King of Ceylon.10 Again, we are reminded that, not only is
the Kataragama of legend a god of ploy who acts through surrogates or by
default altogether, but the site of Kataragama is also an ancient stage for the
enactment of mysteries that nobody has claimed to comprehend. Dare we presume
that there was no more to it than what met the eye? Modern historians have done just that.

That such a tale-teller and underhanded character as the mythical hero of Kataragama should
appear in the guise of a mendicant rogue claiming royal lineage – saying he was
Doraisami, Nayakkar prince of the deposed royal family – also comes as no
surprise whatsoever to connoisseurs, for Kataragama, they tell us, is the
original pretender, partitioning himself out to all for the sheer joy of it all
while showing himself nowhere. Pilling subterfuge upon subterfuge and surfacing
in the most unlikely of roles, the creative process at work in Kataragama
proves time and again that truth has many faces.

To make a long story short, rump king Doraisami, alias Vilbave, acquired in no time a great
following and set off toward the Kandyan hill country, awarding grandiose
appointments along the way even before his coronation ceremony several months
later at Wellawaya.11 The combination of melodrama and slapstick is familiar
enough to students of Kataragama. Needless to say, however, it has never found
its way in to history books.

On the initiative of Vilbave, or whoever he was, the people of Uva Province – old Ruhunu
– rose in revolt against the British occupation force in September 1817. The
timing of it all, in a sense the very distinguishing mark of Kataragama, could
hardly have been worse, at least from the European standpoint. Not only was it
the beginning of the rainy season, when communication and supplies were
hampered by swollen rivers, but the Great Rebellion came at a time when British
forces in Ceylon were depleted and native auxiliaries in short supply.12 'King'
Vilbave could not have planned it this way, and could not have planned it
better, either. True to the principles of Kataragama, is just happened
to turn out that way, to the embarrassment of the English this time.

As long as the apparently inept pretender Vilbave was at the head of operations, things went
ill for the British, and rebellion spread like wildfire. But coincidentally, as
soon as the influential chief of Uva found out about Vilbave's shady background
and began to loose steam. Without a common consensus at the top, rivalries and
suspicion broke out among the nobility and soon everyone sensed that the
rebellion would and soon in failure. Symbolic confirmation came in 1828 with
the 'accidental' recovery by the British of the sacred tooth relic, which had
been spirited away early by sympathetic Buddhist monks. The end was not far
off: Vilbave soon faded into history, and the long slide into the modernity
that Kandyan loathed was ready to begin earnest.

Vilbave entered history as "the first of series of pretenders" whose deeds "set a pattern for
future pretenders".13 In view of insight such as this, it is remarkable that
historians have not devoted greater attention to the pattern under discussion,
which may be called the 'deep structure' of Kataragama. The connection between
the unfolding of history and the grand enactment of principles into myth is
something that has never been properly understood. Kataragama is good place to
start.

Kataragama: Then and Now

The English, unaware of the nature of the struggle they were engaged in, undertook a
deliberate policy of scorched earth tactics-especially in hard-hit Uva province
– and state-sponsored terrorism directed against the village population who
supported the guerillas. The hardship and further resentment that followed the
armed struggle to evict the foreigners can only be imagined today. Such was the
desolation of the countryside right up to Kataragama following the uprising
that years later Davy could with obvious pride report that:

Before we had
possession of the country, kataragam (sic) was greatly frequented. The number
of pilgrims is now annually diminishing, and the buildings are going to decay.
In a very few years, probably they will be level with the ground, and the
traveler such, we must hope will be their fate, and the fate of every building
consecrated to superstition of this very degrading and mischievous kind.14

Co-opting the ancient tradition of rajakariya into a system of unpaid forced labor to
construct the roads that their military and commercial interests required, and
approaching enormous tracts of village common lands to hand over to speculators
later, the British did everything they could to dismantle the indigenous
culture and replace it with something more acceptable to them. The fact
that modern histories paint the British period as one of enlightenment and
national resurgence only further suggests that history-writing itself was
serving as the hand-maiden of European interests and perspectives.

In the context of what has been discussed thus fat, it is most revealing to note that the
worship of Kataragama in recent times has burgeoned in popularity to a
remarkable extent, co-extensive with the period since 1948 of independent
nationhood. It need hardly be added that the name period has been marked by
a steady erosion of the social fiber of Sri Lankan society. New historical
theories are being invented all the time to explain the course events have
taken and to suggest what might follow. Indeed, as many would readily agree,
there is a certain pattern to events, but it seems to defy all attempts at
systematization in theory.

The principal reason for this unsatisfactory state of affairs, we suggest, is the one-sided
approach that sees importance only in consideration of the sort that matter to
western-influenced historians, namely the expressions of forces pertaining to
the lowest order of reality, the quantitative realm, denying to
themselves the insights that maintained traditional civilizations in a state of
homeostasis or balance in the midst of relentless change, historians must take
upon themselves the responsibility for the conflict and confusion that has for
so long characterized their field.

No one is suggesting that a return is possible to a simpler age, or that conflict is entirely avoidable. But it is entirely possible that historians could perform a great service to Sri Lanka, if not to humanity at large, by conceding that there are also other ways of reading and writing history than the so-called modern approaches. The lessons of Kataragama serve as a useful starting point for those having the humility and breadth of vision that such for those having the humility and breadth of vision that such an endeavor requires. Just how high the stakes may by is difficult to ascertain, but it should be self-evident by now that, as the expression goes: Time is short, and the work is vast.

J. Davy. An Account of the Interior of Ceylon and of its Inhabitants, London, 1821, p. 140.

de Silva, op.cit., p. 29.

Op. cit., p. 30.

Ibid

Op. cit., p. 29.

Davy, op. cit., p. 235

Written for presentation at the Eleventh Conference of the International Association of Historians of Asia, Colombo, Sri Lanka, 1-5 August 1988 on behalf of the Kataragama Devotees Trust by Patrick Harrigan, University of California, Berkeley, USA.

Patrick Harrigan (M.A., University of Michigan) studied sacred geography and allied subjects under the tutorship of German Swami Gauribala from 1971 until German Swami's samādhi in 1984. Since 1989 he has been acting editor of the Kataragama Research Publications Project.